Chapter 10

"I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth

And I've never opened up

I've never truly loved 'til you put your arms around me"

a/n: the song lyrics for this chapter are by Christina Perry from the song Arms, I highly recommend it(: anyways here is chapter 10 and I want to thank you all for the reviews you've been leaving and for keeping up with my story! It means so much to see the feedback thank you thank you thank you! Sorry this took a while to update and it's a little short, still I hope you enjoy it, because I'm excited to share it! More to come, and thank you Suzanne Collins for these characters, I own nothing they are all hers. (The quotes from this chapter come from Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins they are in italics)

I visit Haymitch everyday. The first few days I go to his house it reeks of vomit, and body odor. I clean up what I can before I get sick myself. Some days he does not even notice me coming in because his withdrawals are getting worse. Peeta and I switch off on roles. He will clean one day, and I will get fluids into Haymitch. The next day I will assume Peeta's role and he will do mine. I prefer cleaning, Haymitch is often mean and I've been vomited on more than once. The withdrawal only gets worse, so today Peeta is going to the doctor's office on his break to figure out what we should be looking for. Haymitch is sleeping the couch; the house is surprisingly clean today.

I'm twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the phone to ring. If Haymitch gets much worse than this than I don't know what will happen. Will they hospitalize him? He'd hate that, he hates hospitals, and besides I could take good care of him here. It would be no use for the hospital to take him in because they have no way to help him, they don't have a liver and that's the only thing he needs. Haymitch's pager is sitting on the granite counter connected the now empty bar. It's supposed to beep if they find a liver for him. He's threated to 'smash and burn the damn thing' more than once. On bad days he will tell me that he doesn't think living is worth this, then he begs me for some white liquor.

We had to take the knife away from him, because one day he got so angry that he began chopping up the couch. I had to sew it back together. He's angry at the world, and he has a right to be. I had never seen him breakdown until the other day when he began ranting about how whatever being that created this world was an 'unfair sick son of a bitch', he was screaming at me like I was the one who caused the bad that had ever happened to him. Eventually he just yelled, "It's all so unfair! How can anyone live with what we've been through?" Then he began crying, and because he was crying he threw up. He proceeded to beg for liquor to nub his pain. I think that was the first time he had ever really felt.

The phone rings wildly, almost hurting my ears, Haymitch doesn't flinch. It's a wonder why he never picks up his phone.

"Hello," I answer in a soft tone.

"Katniss?"

"Yes it's me."

"Well, good and bad news."

I sigh, "Alright give it to me."

"Doctor says that things aren't too severe now, and we don't have anything to worry about, it will all pass in due time. However, it may become more severe instead of passing. If it does then he may experience a seizure. If he seems to be having more than one symptom, other than vomiting, we need to bring him in."

I let it sink in then say, "Okay. I'll tell him that, but he's sleeping right now."

"You sound stressed. Why don't you come down to the bakery? I just made fresh cheese buns. They aren't even in the case yet. I could save you a few…"

I look at Haymitch peacefully sleeping on the couch, "I don't know."
"He'll sleep the rest of the day, this is his routine."
"Okay I'll be there in ten." I write Haymitch a short note, and head out the door. The bakery is a short ten-minute walk, and luckily when I get there its basically empty excusing one person who is finishing up his cup of coffee and one older woman ordering a scone. Peeta is behind the counter. It's funny to see him back there, because usually he works making the pastries. Back when he was a teenager he worked the counter. I remember seeing him through the window when Prim would drag me down to see the cakes.

The woman is talking to him pleasantly with the scone in her hand. She's thanking him and telling him how beautiful the store looks. I stay a comfortable distance behind her, and let her continue to talk. Peeta responds with a friendly thank you and says he will give her any bakery good for free because of her kindness. She politely declines saying that it would take too long for her to make up her mind. He waves to her as she leaves. I walk up to the counter.

"Hi."

"What can I get you?" he returns in a hospitable tone.

"Well I came for the famous cheese buns. People say they are really good."

"I've heard that too," he suppresses a smile.

The door chimes behind us, and the one man drinking his coffee leaves. The bakery is empty.

"I'll take all the ones you have."

"I just made some fresh ones. They're in the back."

I smile, "I'll have those then."

Peeta lets his smile free, and hops over the counter. He trots to the door and turns the sign from 'open' to 'closed'. He goes to untie his apron.

"No!" I interject. His hands drop from his neck. "Leave it on."

"Okay?"
I flash him a smile in response and then push through the doors to the kitchen. He puts on his oven mitts and slides out two pans of cheese buns. My mouth waters at the smell. Once he puts down the pans I'm on top of them.

"No Katniss," he says just as I'm about to take one. "They're hot. You need to let them sit."
"Ugh. Waiting. I hate it."

He chuckles and plants a kiss on my cheek. We haven't talked about the night we shared a few weeks ago, and we haven't dared to go that far again. I often find myself thinking about it though. The way is back muscles constricted under my touch, and the feel of his lips devouring mine…

"Okay," Peeta interrupts, "You can eat one now."
I scoop up one of the buns, and eat half of it in single bite.

"Jeez…how much can you fit in there?" Peeta jokes.

I smile at him with my cheeks full of cheese bun and he chortles. I almost choke when I begin to laugh as well.

Once I finish my bite I say, "Oh my gosh, these are the best yet."
"They were made especially for you."

"Oh get out of here."

"Not kidding."
"Then thank you," I lick my lips, "What else you got?"

"What?" he asks.

"What else do you have?"

"I don't know go look in the cases. You can eat what you want. I'm closed for the day. You're here."

"Was no one else working?"

"Nope, just me. On Thursdays and Tuesdays it's just me. Secretly, I like it better like that."

"You don't like your personal helpers?"

"You mean my employees?"

"Same difference."

"Anyways, no I like them. I just like the quiet sometimes. Things get too crowded with five people in that small kitchen."

"I see how that might get a bit claustrophobic."
"I don't like small spaces," his voice lowers. Of course he doesn't like small spaces. He was locked in a cell, beaten and tortured for months. I wonder if being in there with all those people causes flashbacks, or scares him sometimes…

Not thinking I say, "How small was it Peeta?"

He narrows his eyes, "4 by 4. No bigger than a closet."

"I-I'm sorry."

He places his hand on my shoulder, "You've got to stop apologizing for things you had no control over."

"I should have been there more. I should have lo-"

"Katniss," Peeta says sternly, "Stop."

I shake my head. "I should have though. We went through so much and then I just left you alone. I should have at least talked to you, tried to befriend you in some way."

"Things were different back then."

"Things are different now."

He takes a deep breath, "I think we're doing good, Katniss. I really do. The past is in the past now. We can let it go."

"How can you let something like that go?"

"Well for starters I can barely even remember it," he laughs a sad laugh.

"I'm serious, Peeta. I was awful to you."

"No," he shakes his head, "No you were not."
"Don't lie to me Peeta. How could even think I was remotely good to you, all I ever did was lie to you."
His expression changes, to something more filled with hurt. "But not everything you did was a lie. Was it?"

"No," I say, "Not everything. There was truth in my actions. I didn't know what I was doing though. I was confused, alone, and vulnerable. Some choices weren't for me; most choices weren't for me. They were for the good of my loved ones. I didn't want anyone to get hurt. I just wanted everyone alive, not happy, but alive. "
"You're job wasn't to save everyone. You carried the weight of the world."
"I had to. I just wanted to protect everyone. Especially you. You deserved to be alive, and happy. You deserved a good life. All I wanted for you was a happy life, with someone who could love you like you deserved to be loved. I didn't think I was that person."

"And now?" he asks.

"I could never be the person I wanted for you," I answer softly.

"You are her," he says.

I shake my head. "I want to be someone who can give you everything you want."

"You are everything I want Katniss. Can't you see, you always have been."

"Peeta," I begin with intent on starting some kind of pointless feud that has no real end to it.

Instead my slurs of words are stopped when his blue eyes lock with mine. I forget my argument, and a feeling of want inside of me makes my heart flutter. I caress his cheek with the back of hand lightly, and then run my fingers through the short hair on the back of his head.

He shivers, and his lips find mine without words. There is a building fire behind the kiss. It starts out slow, but then his lips are all over mine. I can't hear myself think, or even get enough breathe to continue. "Peeta," I rasp.

"Katniss," he returns in the same tone. His lips move down to my neck. Devouring every part of me. He pulls away slowly, and lets his fingers run through my hair. I can feel his ragged breathing against my cheek.

"You make me so happy," he whispers in my ear, "So happy."

I smile bashfully. "That's all I've ever wanted to do was make you happy."

"You've always made me happy, Katniss."
"We don't have to be sad anymore Peeta. We don't have to carry that weight anymore. For so long I thought that if I didn't carry that weight it meant that I didn't care, but it's the exact opposite. Relinquishing the weight is what they would want us to do. Wallowing in pity does not honor the valiant warriors who fought and died, it does not keep them alive, it buries them. But being happy, it cherishes them. It lets people know that they did not die for nothing. That, in fact, they died to keep everyone else living. They would want us to be happy."

"And you say you don't have a way with words," he pauses, "Katniss that was beautiful. Truly."

"I want to cherish them."

"We can. You, and me we can be happy again. We can be happy together"

"Stay with me?" I plead.

"Always," he promises.

I lock my lips with his, intent on never pulling away.

There is an entanglement of bare bodies under thin sheets, ruffling in the wind coming from the slightly open window. Drops of rain burst on the white paint of the windowsill, creating a calming cooling aura in the small bakery bedroom. I'm tracing circles on Peeta's chest, while he falls in and out of sleep. His hand lays stationary on my arm. The bed sheet covers our lower torsos, but leaves the rest of us uncovered. My hair, uncut, and flowing steadily down my back is spread across the upper part of Peeta's chest. I need a haircut, because its lengthiness is almost unmanageable. Peeta needs one too; his hair is stuck to his face with sweat, and his breathing is still uneven. We had to take careful measure to keep his flashbacks at bay, but it only took one eye lock for him to wholly return to me. I kept my eyes on him the whole time, and I felt something I had never felt before. Euphoria, perhaps. It was a feeling like nothing else, genuine and heartwarming. I would quite like to be able to feel it for the rest of my life.

We hadn't been able to wait until we got home. His hands were everywhere: on my back, my chest, my jaw, and my hips. I couldn't take myself away from him for even a second without being drawn back in. His shirt was the first thing to come off, and then my own. At that point we were still the bakery's kitchen. My hands didn't leave his hair the whole time, and as we felt things becoming more passionate he carried me up the stairs without his lips ever leaving mine.

He lied me down gingerly; the sheets were cold from the cool outside air filtering in. He crept over me, slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I did not feel exposed, I felt beautiful. I was not ashamed of body. Peeta traced over each of my scars with his lips, whispering beautiful as he did so. I had never felt as wanted, or as needed, as I did then and there.

The rest of our clothes were strewn across the floor. At first, it was filled with intense fervor, and felt a bit rushed. I had to slow him down, bring him back to me. I made him look me in eyes, and take deep breathes. Peeta's blue eyes had become clouded with nightmarish visions, and he had held onto the headboard with a grip strong enough to break. I took his face in hands, and drew him closer to me. I whispered in a hushed tone, 'Not Real', over and over until he returned to me. His hands slid into my hair, and gently pulled. My nails dug into his back, as he hovered slowly above me. It didn't last very long, but it was long enough for me to realize that this was everything I had ever wanted. He was here with me, really here. And I knew. I knew everything I had been so unsure of before.

I am in love with him. Drowning in love with him. I want him every second, every minute, every day for the rest of my life. It has always been this way. Part of me has always known that there wasn't anyone else who could make me feel the way he does. At one point I thought it was Gale who I was destined to spend my days with, but in the end it was not that I did not love him, it was simply that we were too alike, and that he was not the same boy who I hunted with in the woods. He was a man, filled with fire and rage, and I have enough fire and rage myself. Mix fire with fire, and you only create a bigger fire. I knew it wasn't right with him. Every time we were together something felt out of place, like when a book on a shelf is pushed further back than all the rest.

I never thought it would be Peeta. Everything about him and I confused me, and I could barely even think about it without getting a headache. Not to mention that I didn't want to think about it, because the more I thought about him the more I wanted him and wanting him was not an option in a world where everything you love gets taken away from you. I knew I could not want him because wanting leads to loving, and loving leads to death. At that point though, I was already in love with him, and I guess everyone accept him and I could see it. Even the President could see it, and that's why he used him against me. He knew that he was the only one who I truly loved. Him, and Prim, but because he did not have Prim, he would have to settle for Peeta. Which was enough to break me.

I should have known things would end like this the minute I felt the intense hunger on the beach. Televised or not, that kiss was the first kiss I had ever had that made something stir something deep inside of me. It hasn't stopped stirring since. The feeling only grows with the numbering days I spend with him. I find more things to love each minute. He makes me happy in a world where I thought all happiness was lost. He is the first yellow dandelion of spring signaling of hope and rebirth. He makes me the person I want to be.

So after when he whispers, "You love me, real or not real?"

I tell him, "Real."

END OF PART 1